“Mama, papa… I know this has been a

“Mama, papa… I know this has been a long time in coming,” he said, in heavily accented English. “But this is Theresa… la mia moglie, my wife.”
“Piacevole per incontrarli,” she murmured haltingly, not sure if she had said it right or if they even understood her but the smile Sandro directed down at her was filled with so much overwhelming pride and tenderness that Theresa felt bathed in its warmth. He entwined the long, lean fingers of one hand with hers but she didn’t understand why he felt the need to make the gesture when their hands were out of the camera’s sight.
“I’m pleased to meet you,” she repeated in English, in case the couple hadn’t understood her, which seemed likely if their baffled expressions were anything to go by. His mother’s lips pursed in what looked like disapproval but his father’s smile broadened and he said something in rapidfire Italian that Theresa didn’t stand a chance of understanding.
“My father says that you are truly beautiful,” Sandro translated for her. “And that he is very happy to finally meet you.” Her eyes flooded with tears and she nodded slightly.
“Thank you... grazie,” she smiled warmly at the fragile looking old man and he looked delighted by it. He once again said something in high speed Italian and Sandro chuckled before responding in an amused voice. It was obvious that they were talking about her and she turned to Sandro waiting for the translation, when it didn’t look like it was forthcoming, she prodded him with a nudge from her shoulder and he grinned before saying something in a wry voice to his mother and father before turning to her with that same warm humour in his eyes.
“My father says that while you look as sweet and docile as an angel he does not imagine that a woman with your red hair can be easy to live with. He believes that the angelic exterior must hide a fiery temper...”
“Oh?” She asked in a deceptively calm voice, even while she narrowed her eyes at him. “and what did you say?”
“I told him that he definitely knows women a lot better than I do because when I married you I thought that the angel was all there was, until I provoked the fiery demoness into showing herself, to my detriment.”
“Demoness?” She asked in a highly offended voice and both his father and he chuckled simultaneously.
“Easy cara,” he lifted his free hand in a gesture of surrender and his father burst into warm, genuine laughter, the sound so happy and carefree that for an instant everyone, including his wife simply stared at him with huge smiles. The older man finally brought his laughter under control and said something in Italian, which seemed to be aimed at Theresa. She looked at Sandro for a translation and he hesitated for a millisecond before clearing his throat and turning back toward Theresa.
“My father says that it’s good to see me with a woman who isn’t intimidated by me, who can give as good as she gets. He thinks we will have strong sons and daughters...” he cleared his throat slightly before continuing, even though the huskiness persisted. “He is honoured to call you daughter and is proud that his son’s children will come from a worthy woman like you.”
“Oh...” Theresa whispered, her hand going up to cover her mouth and her eyes flooding with tears. “Oh God.”
“Cara,” his soft voice in her ear pleaded with her to keep it together and she nodded, closing her eyes briefly to keep her surging emotions under control, before bracing herself and opening her eyes to meet the wise, old eyes of a man who was halfway across the world.
“Thank you,” she told him again. “You are so very kind to say that. I am equally proud to know that my child comes from a strong family such as yours. I look forward to the day I can present my son to you, sir.”
“Or daughter,” Sandro inserted smoothly, before translating what she had said to the beaming older man.
“You are... lovely girl. I sorry for all trouble,” the man suddenly said in broken but understandable English and Theresa’s lips trembled with emotion. “You make my boy happy. I see this... grazie. I so worry... but I see now, he very happy with you. Very much love here. I see.”
She couldn’t respond to that with much more than a nod and another emotional grazie, overwhelmed by the perception that had allowed the sick old man to see how much she loved his son. He and Sandro were now having a solemn conversation and the older man started pausing more and more frequently, seeming to lose track of his thoughts more and more until his wife stepped in and called a halt to the conversation.
“Mama says he is tired and needs to take his medication and rest,” he whispered to Theresa, as they watched the older man protest half-heartedly before allowing himself to be wheeled, for he was in a wheelchair, out of the room with a few last farewells to Sandro and Theresa. Sandro’s hand was squeezing hers so hard that it stopped the blood flow into her fingers but Theresa didn’t protest, knowing that Sandro was probably wondering if it would be the last time he would ever see or speak to his father. They watched in silence as the door closed behind his mother’s ample form before they both suddenly became aware of the fact that another person was in the room on screen. A wizened old woman suddenly plonked herself into the seat, Sandro’s mother had just vacated and Sandro’s entire face lit up.
“Nonna!” He greeted with warm enthusiasm and turned to Theresa, who had already gleaned who the little, old lady was. She was tentatively starting to smile, when the woman suddenly launched into speech, her voice low and furious. Whatever she was saying wiped the smile off Sandro’s face in seconds and she watched as his eyes darkened in fury and his lips tightened in an expression she was more than a little familiar with. He released Theresa’s hand and hissed something equally dire sounding back at his grandmother, who gasped in horror before launching into an even angrier seeming tirade. By this time two younger women, whom she recognised as Sandro’s sisters had stepped into the room and upon hearing whatever it was their grandmother had said added their own two cents’ worth until there was nothing but unintelligible squawks coming from the speakers. Suddenly the old woman’s words turned to English and her eyes were seemed trained on Theresa.
“You make my family miserable! You take my grandson and keep him away from his family, keep him away from his dying father... you nothing but selfish. Why you want a man who no love you? No pride... you no pride. He love a good woman, he no love you!”

Hasil (Bahasa Indonesia) 1:

"Mama, papa... Aku tahu ini sudah lama datang,"Dia berkata, dalam sangat aksen bahasa Inggris. "Tapi ini Theresa... la mia moglie, istri saya.""Piacevole per incontrarli," dia bersungut haltingly, tidak yakin jika dia berkata ini benar atau jika mereka bahkan mengerti dia tapi senyum Sandro diarahkan ke arahnya dipenuhi dengan begitu banyak luar biasa kebanggaan dan kelembutan yang Theresa merasa bermandikan kehangatan. Ia terjalin lama, ramping jari satu tangan dengan miliknya tapi dia tidak mengerti mengapa ia merasa perlu untuk membuat gerakan ketika tangan mereka dari pandangan kamera."Aku senang bertemu dengan Anda," ia mengulangi dalam bahasa Inggris, jika pasangan tidak mengerti, yang tampaknya mungkin jika ekspresi mereka bingung adalah sesuatu untuk pergi oleh. Ibunya bibir diburu dalam apa yang tampak seperti penolakan tetapi memperluas ayahnya tersenyum dan dia berkata sesuatu dalam rapidfire Italia Theresa yang tidak berdiri kesempatan pemahaman."Ayah saya mengatakan bahwa Anda benar-benar indah," Sandro diterjemahkan untuknya. "Dan bahwa ia sangat senang akhirnya bertemu dengan Anda." Membanjiri matanya dengan air mata dan Dia mengangguk sedikit.“Thank you... grazie,” she smiled warmly at the fragile looking old man and he looked delighted by it. He once again said something in high speed Italian and Sandro chuckled before responding in an amused voice. It was obvious that they were talking about her and she turned to Sandro waiting for the translation, when it didn’t look like it was forthcoming, she prodded him with a nudge from her shoulder and he grinned before saying something in a wry voice to his mother and father before turning to her with that same warm humour in his eyes.“My father says that while you look as sweet and docile as an angel he does not imagine that a woman with your red hair can be easy to live with. He believes that the angelic exterior must hide a fiery temper...”“Oh?” She asked in a deceptively calm voice, even while she narrowed her eyes at him. “and what did you say?”“I told him that he definitely knows women a lot better than I do because when I married you I thought that the angel was all there was, until I provoked the fiery demoness into showing herself, to my detriment.”“Demoness?” She asked in a highly offended voice and both his father and he chuckled simultaneously.“Easy cara,” he lifted his free hand in a gesture of surrender and his father burst into warm, genuine laughter, the sound so happy and carefree that for an instant everyone, including his wife simply stared at him with huge smiles. The older man finally brought his laughter under control and said something in Italian, which seemed to be aimed at Theresa. She looked at Sandro for a translation and he hesitated for a millisecond before clearing his throat and turning back toward Theresa.“My father says that it’s good to see me with a woman who isn’t intimidated by me, who can give as good as she gets. He thinks we will have strong sons and daughters...” he cleared his throat slightly before continuing, even though the huskiness persisted. “He is honoured to call you daughter and is proud that his son’s children will come from a worthy woman like you.”“Oh...” Theresa whispered, her hand going up to cover her mouth and her eyes flooding with tears. “Oh God.”“Cara,” his soft voice in her ear pleaded with her to keep it together and she nodded, closing her eyes briefly to keep her surging emotions under control, before bracing herself and opening her eyes to meet the wise, old eyes of a man who was halfway across the world.“Thank you,” she told him again. “You are so very kind to say that. I am equally proud to know that my child comes from a strong family such as yours. I look forward to the day I can present my son to you, sir.”"Atau putri," Sandro dimasukkan lancar, sebelum menerjemahkan apa yang dia katakan kepada orang tua yang berseri-seri."Anda adalah... gadis cantik. Saya Maaf untuk semua masalah,"orang itu tiba-tiba berkata dalam bahasa Inggris yang rusak, tetapi dapat dimengerti dan bibir Theresa gemetar dengan emosi. "Anda membuat anak saya bahagia. Saya melihat ini... grazie. Saya sangat khawatir... tapi aku melihat sekarang, ia sangat senang dengan Anda. Sangat banyak cinta di sini. Saya melihat."Dia tidak bisa menjawab bahwa dengan banyak lebih mengangguk dan lain grazie emosional, kewalahan oleh persepsi bahwa telah membiarkan orang tua sakit untuk melihat berapa banyak dia mengasihi anak-Nya. Dia dan Sandro sekarang bercakap-cakap serius dan orang tua mulai berhenti lebih dan lebih sering, seakan kehilangan jejak pikirannya semakin sampai istrinya melangkah masuk dan disebut menghentikan percakapan.“Mama says he is tired and needs to take his medication and rest,” he whispered to Theresa, as they watched the older man protest half-heartedly before allowing himself to be wheeled, for he was in a wheelchair, out of the room with a few last farewells to Sandro and Theresa. Sandro’s hand was squeezing hers so hard that it stopped the blood flow into her fingers but Theresa didn’t protest, knowing that Sandro was probably wondering if it would be the last time he would ever see or speak to his father. They watched in silence as the door closed behind his mother’s ample form before they both suddenly became aware of the fact that another person was in the room on screen. A wizened old woman suddenly plonked herself into the seat, Sandro’s mother had just vacated and Sandro’s entire face lit up.“Nonna!” He greeted with warm enthusiasm and turned to Theresa, who had already gleaned who the little, old lady was. She was tentatively starting to smile, when the woman suddenly launched into speech, her voice low and furious. Whatever she was saying wiped the smile off Sandro’s face in seconds and she watched as his eyes darkened in fury and his lips tightened in an expression she was more than a little familiar with. He released Theresa’s hand and hissed something equally dire sounding back at his grandmother, who gasped in horror before launching into an even angrier seeming tirade. By this time two younger women, whom she recognised as Sandro’s sisters had stepped into the room and upon hearing whatever it was their grandmother had said added their own two cents’ worth until there was nothing but unintelligible squawks coming from the speakers. Suddenly the old woman’s words turned to English and her eyes were seemed trained on Theresa.“You make my family miserable! You take my grandson and keep him away from his family, keep him away from his dying father... you nothing but selfish. Why you want a man who no love you? No pride... you no pride. He love a good woman, he no love you!”